Best. Husband. Ever.

The title of my post today was going to be "Best. Wife. Ever."

Because I allowed my husband to mount a 50 inch high def plasma screen television above the mantle in our living room.

You may think...So? What's the big deal?

Well, you see...I live in a house full of men, and as such, I don't have a whole lot of space for feminine frippery.

Once, a piece from my treasured collection of vintage perfume bottles met with a grisly end when a ball was tossed into the ceiling fan and careened into the bookshelves where I had them displayed. Since then, I don't really scatter knicky-knacky things about like many women do, because they are sure to meet with a similar fate.

But I had a few cherished things upon the mantle. It looked nice.

I had a set of brass etchings that we bought in Paris on our honeymoon from a street artisan whose booth was set up at the base of Montmartre. I look at them and remember the majesty of Sacre Couer and how we joked as we climbed a very narrow staircase to the top that we hoped there wasn't a fire.

I had a set of Waterford Crystal candlesticks rimmed in 18 kt gold that we got as a wedding gift. I rarely light them because I don't want them damaged. But I love to look at them. I love having them.

I had a Mikasa crystal decanter, also a wedding gift, filled with petals from a bouquet that Husband gave me on some long forgotten occasion.

I had pictures of my boys, including my favorite one of Diminutive One. The look on his face is quintessiantially, essentially, superbly...him.

I had a mirror in a beautiful frame that I got when a very chi-chi home decor store went out of business.

Now, there is an enormous black rectangle. It's not attractive.

But you know what? Either is the rest of my living room. It's a dark, low ceilinged room with bland white walls and ugly teal green furniture. It isn't a showplace. It isn't a sanctuary. It's just a room.

So what do I care?

I said to some friends not long ago, that one day I would have my sanctuary; a beautiful high ceilinged room with floor to ceiling bookshelves and an ornate fireplace above which I would mount a copy of my favorite painting.

So I wasn't terribly upset about the fact that his new television is now dominating the landscape in our livingroom.

Still. I did plan to get some mileage out of it. Mostly in the form of blog fodder, but also in the form of some good old fashioned emotional extortion.

But then, today, on a day we had agreed only to give cards and chocolates, he presented me with this:



Damn him. He totally ruined my pithy title.